I slept in until 11:00 AM on Saturday morning and the good news is that is felt fantastic, in part because that was an hour later than I'd intended to slumber and I am convinced there is nothing in this life, outside of personal interaction with the Holy Ghost, that is quite so rewarding as hitting the snooze button, being fully cognizant of the time and the tasks of the day ahead, sighing contentedly, and rolling back over to fall back asleep. The bad news is that it's after three o'clock in the morning and I feel disinclined to sleep. Of course, some blame must go to my choice of bedtime reading, Fables: Animal Farm, the second collection of Bill Willingham's truly astonishing comic book series. The first collection, Legends in Exile, is but a clumsy shade of the splendor to come, though I mean not to seem harsh, as I know well that all great enterprises need time to find their proper footing, but "Animal Farm," collected in Animal Farm, is where Fables really became Fables. And Fables is unrivaled.

Ye olde internet is a dull place at half past three o'clock in the morning on a Saturday night. Well, I shall attempt to put visions of Snow White and Bigby Wolf, Boy Blue and Rose Red, and all the other denizens of Fabletown and Fables out of my head, or at least relegate them to slumberous dreams, and fall into Somnus's embrace.